


He's beauty, he's grace, he hit Akaashi in the face

by symphorine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Injury, M/M, not in that order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-14 00:12:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5722339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphorine/pseuds/symphorine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Akaashi, do you hear me? If you see a light, don't move!"<br/>"Urgh," was Akaashi's only response.</p><p>Bokuto seemed to calm down a little when he opened his eyes – he hadn't even realized they were closed – but kept one hand on Akaashi's shoulder, the other hovering around his face without touching it.</p><p>"You look bad," Komi said, raising both eyebrows at his face.</p><p>Akaashi didn't bother answering that.</p><p>-</p><p>(My friend prompted me with "bokuaka + I was imitating a fight scene off this anime I watched and accidentally hit you in the face." This is the result.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's beauty, he's grace, he hit Akaashi in the face

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mei_tan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mei_tan/gifts).



> It wasn't supposed to be that long but oh well.

It was a little early for practice, but most of the players were already on the court, tossing and spiking and receiving.

Akaashi was listening to Bokuto's rambling with one ear, regretting his decision to stay up late to finish his homework the previous night. He tied his shoes and made sure they were holding his feet properly, not wanting to stumble and get acquainted with the ground any further – it happened far too often lately, and he was considered simply buying new shoes. He almost slipped when he stood up right then, and sighed heavily, adding it to his ever-growing list of things to do.

“And then he punched the guy and it was so! Awesome! Akaashi! I swear, look-”

“Yes, Bokuto-san, I'm sure it was,” Akaashi answered distractedly, used to his friend's chatter.

Sometimes he would listen, attentively even, but he did not see the point in Bokuto's retelling of, what, an anime fight? It was nice to see him so excited and in such high spirits, but Akaashi was tired, pissed at his shoes, and would have liked some quiet, for once. He turned to Bokuto, opening his mouth to tell him he was ready, just in time to get his friend's knee in the face.

He staggered backwards under the force of the hit and, because his shoes had decided to give up and abandon him, slipped and fell, his head hitting the ground pretty hard.

For a few seconds, he laid there, debating whether getting back up was worth it or not, because today definitely was _not_ going to be his day. Only when he tried to sigh did he realize that something was wrong with his nose.

“...ashi? Akaashi? Oh no, please tell me you're alive! Oh shit!”

“Bokuto-san, let him breathe!”

“Akaashi, do you hear me? If you see a light, don't move!”

“Urgh,” was Akaashi's only response.

Bokuto seemed to calm down a little when he opened his eyes – he hadn't even realized they were closed – but kept one hand on Akaashi's shoulder, the other hovering around his face without touching it.

“You look bad,” Komi said, raising both eyebrows at his face.

Akaashi didn't bother answering that. He slowly raised his hand, setting Bokuto's aside gently, and explored his own face with caution. He could feel the back of his head pulsing with dull pain, but his face felt mostly alright, aside from the pain pulsing through it. Then his fingers reached his nose and something hot and vaguely liquid, and they were red when he pulled his hand back with a frown. The others were visibly waiting for his reaction, but he just groaned again and let his hand fall at his side. He was _done_ for the day.

“What the hell's happening?”

Their manager's voice teared through the confused silence surrounding the team, and as she marched toward them, most of them stood up and back, letting her see Akaashi's lying form on the ground and a panicking Bokuto still sitting next to him. Yukie slowed down and knelt at their side.

“What did you do?” she asked her classmate, quickly assessing the damage.

“I didn't do it on purpose! I'm sorry! He turned at the wrong moment and I couldn't-”

“Okay, okay,” Yukie said, standing back up, now assured that everyone was still alive and in one piece. “I'm not sure I actually want to know. Go to the nurse,” she pointed at Akaashi, “he might still be here. And you, go with him,” she added, pointing at Bokuto.

Neither of them protested, Akaashi too tired, Bokuto too worried to do anything but comply. He helped his friends get on his feet, but didn't let go, making them both advance toward the door while the others finally started practice. It proved a good idea, as Akaashi had trouble putting his left foot on the ground. Any other day, he would have had to fight the heat that crept on his face every time Bokuto touched him for more than a second. But this time, he didn't have the energy to be embarrassed, and instead let himself lean into his friend for once.

The trip to the nurse's office didn't take long, and he was, thankfully, still here to receive them. He quickly cleaned Akaashi's face from the blood and snot with minimal pain, listening to Bokuto's recounting of the incident. His touch was light, assured, almost as comforting as Bokuto's hand on Akaashi's shoulder had been.

“I don't think your nose is broken, but it might still be a good idea to go see a doctor and confirm it when the swelling reduces,” the nurse announced as he looked for an ice pack. “The bleeding has stopped, which is good, but if it still hurts in two or three days like it is now, you might need more than time. Anywhere else where it hurts?”

“My head, a little,” Akaashi articulated carefully. “And my left ankle,” he added, moving his leg a bit.

“Your ankle too? Oh man, I'm really sorry, Akaashi, I'm so, so sorry,” Bokuto repeated.

He was fretting, his hands moving between them without ever actually _touching_ , like he didn't know what to do with them, but was too afraid to do any other damage if he laid a finger on his friend again.

“It's fine, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi sighed, catching one of his hands and putting it down. “It was an accident.”

“That doesn't make it fine,” Bokuto mumbled as the nurse came back and handed Akaashi a small ice pack, touching the back of his head lightly before nodding and moving to his ankle. “I shouldn't have hit you.”

“If you could have avoided it, you'd have, right?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Then that's enough for me,” Akaashi stated, pressing the ice pack against his swollen nose. “Stop apologizing for something you couldn't avoid.”

“It's probably just lightly sprained,” the nurse interrupted before Bokuto could counter. “I'd advise not using this leg too much for a few days, and no sport for at least a week. I won't bandage it, but I'll lend you crutches, and you'll need to apply the ice pack on it too. At home, try not to use that leg, and keep some cold on it this evening. Let it rest a few days, but if it starts to swell too much, go to a doctor immediately. You need to come see me next week so I can tell you whether you'll need to keep using the braces or not, and if you need to see a doctor for your nose, okay?”

“I understand,” Akaashi nodded, standing up awkwardly on one feet, bracing himself against the wall.

“Good,” the nurse said, handing him a pair of crutches. “Now go home.”

“I'll help you carry your things!” Bokuto exclaimed, jumping from his seat.

“Then I'll wait until practice is over.”

“What?”

“I can wait, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi repeated firmly.

Bokuto opened his mouth to protest, but the nurse didn't contradict his friend, which made any argument he could come up with useless if he wasn't backed up. He caught Akaashi's serious expression, the one that meant he was willing to back down, and abruptly gritted his teeth.

“Okay,” he gave in. “Do you need help walking back?”

“I should be okay with these,” Akaashi answered, gesturing at the crutches he was trying on. “You go ahead.”

“As if I'd leave you alone.”

Akaashi looked up at that, almost startled, but it was his turn to give in in front of his friend's determined glare, and he shrugged slightly before hobbling along Bokuto in the hallway as fast as he could, ice pack in his hand.

The journey back to the gym was a little longer, but it was only a few minutes before they arrived. Akaashi sat on the bench as soon as he could. He'd grumbled against crutches the whole way, but Bokuto hadn't said anything, jaw still clamped shut. He barely uttered a word to Yukie when she trotted toward them and stomped off to the court and the team. Akaashi frowned at his back.

“Are you okay?” Yukie asked, looking at the ice pack Akaashi had brought to his face again and the crutches lying at his feet.

“No volleyball for a few days, and I'll have to walk with _these,_ ” he replied sourly, giving a small kick to the braces, “but I'll be okay.”

“Then why's _he_ looking like he's the one injured?” she added, pointing at Bokuto.

Akaashi looked at him, peering over the ice pack. He was playing well, not like when he was having one of his bad episodes, but he was definitely tense, and his face usually so expressive and relaxed was closed off, almost painfully so. The other team members were obviously puzzled, exchanging confused looks, but no one tried to get him to talk.

“I think he feels guilty,” Akaashi finally sighed, lowering the cold bag onto his ankle, letting his eyes leave Bokuto's back. “I'll talk to him.”

Yukie hummed in response, her face impassive, and left him alone.

 

* * *

 

The walk back home was mostly spent in tense silence. Bokuto had kept biting his lips, giving monosyllabic answers to any question Akaashi could think of, letting the topic die before the conversation even started. The role reversal bothered Akaashi, but in spite of his efforts, he didn't manage to get through his friend at all. After a while, he let it go and focused on walking, but kept stealing glances at his friend, worrying his lip as he thought.

They stopped right before Akaashi's front door and Bokuto finally looked him in the eyes.

“Goodnight, I guess,” he muttered.

H was so far from his usual self that Akaashi was starting to be worried. He was silent for a handful of seconds, hoping the right words would come to him, but there was nothing.

“Bokuto-san, is everything alright?” he settled for instead, searching his friend's face for any sign of- he didn't even know what.

“Yeah! Sure! I'm not the one injured here,” Bokuto laughed, too loud.

He stepped forward and embraced Akaashi in a quick hug, then sauntered backwards and went on his way, waving his hand, before Akaashi could say anything.

Bokuto had a habit of greeting him with hugs. They usually lasted long, or were multiple, and excited, and always bone-crushing. Akaashi hoped, almost every time, that Bokuto would stop, or at least wouldn't touch him so much, because it was getting hard hiding his crush, and even more when he felt so warm and safe and-

He had barely felt anything, Bokuto's touch light as a feather, and his laugh still sounded wrong, long after it had died.

Sighing, Akaashi mentally prepared himself to explain things to his parents and get them off his back, filing Bokuto's strange behavior away in a corner of his mind. With any luck, he'd be back to normal the next day, and he was worrying for nothing.

He kept telling himself that as he knocked on the door and his mother opened, a worried exclamation on her lips when she saw the state he was in. He repeated it to himself through dinner and in the shower, playing it on a loop in a remote part of his brain as he did his homework. He formed the words with his lips as he started at the ceiling, unable to sleep despite feeling exhausted.

He fell asleep with a frown and a knotted stomach, the pain in his nose and his ankle pretty much forgotten.

 

* * *

 

If anything, Bokuto was _worse_ . Akaashi had texted him in the morning to tell him not to wait for him, and so they hadn't seen each other until lunch. It only took a second of Bokuto catching sight of his face, now sporting two brand new black eyes, courtesy of his damaged nose , and averting his gaze with a somber expression for Akaashi to realize that this wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped. And he was still exhausted. This day looked _great_.

Bokuto barely talked while they ate, a sharp contrast to the scene he usually was by himself, all large gestures and expressions. They sat mostly in silence, occasionally talking about their classmates or teammates for a sentence or two, then right back at square one. Akaashi didn't dare enjoy the relative quiet; something in doing that didn't feel right.

He looked at the other, properly, staring like he usually didn't dare to. Bokuto didn't exactly look very different, but his whole attitude seemed subdued, somehow. He wasn't talking or smiling, eyes down and shifty instead of attentive and lit from the inside, playing with his food where he'd usually gulf it down in mere seconds.

When he glanced at Akaashi and then looked away, almos wincing, the other boy snapped.

“Bokuto-san, will you _tell me_ what's wrong?” he demanded, putting down his chopsticks rather violently.

Bokuto startled at that, and a few of the closest students turned their heads towards them, but Akaashi payed them no mind. He kept his eyes fixed on Bokuto, narrowed them at his fidgeting, and waited, arms crossed.

“Nothing! I'm just thinking about my exams,” Bokuto lied, attempting a smile.

Only the fact that politeness had been his way of life until now stopped Akaashi from calling bullshit straight off. He raised his eyebrows instead, knowing that Bokuto would understand that expression for what it was. And, sure enough, he started looking uncomfortable, his fidgeting picking up. He finally took a sharp breath, opened him mouth to talk, and-

-was interrupted by the ring indicating the end of lunch period and that it was time for everyone to return to their own classrooms. Bokuto practically leapt out of his seat, almost knocking their table off.

“See you at practice!” he said hurriedly before bolting through the door.

Akaashi stared at where his friend was previously seated, feeling his worry shift to irritation under the influence of too little sleep, two injuries, new shoes to buy, and his friend acting like what he was pretty certain was a stubborn _idiot_.

 

* * *

 

He debated a few seconds whether to go to practice or not, even with his ankle preventing him from playing, but the facts that a) Bokuto would probably be in an even worse mood if he didn't show up and he couldn't inflict that on the team, b) he _did_ need to talk to his friend, or at least try, because letting him simmer with his own thoughts rarely did any good, c) he was vice-captain, he had a responsibility to be there when he could, and d) it was raining helped the decision-making process be shortened.

Akaashi opened the door with a sigh and went to sit beside Yukie. His feet itched at seeing the others run around the court, and he wished he could join them and have a ball in his hands, but he wasn't stupid enough to ignore the nurse's recommendations, and his ankle still couldn't support him, anyway. Bokuto _did_ brighten when he saw him, even waved at him with his usual enthusiasm, and Akaashi almost let himself be relieved, like their teammates visibly did in Bokuto's back when they saw him back to normal, but-

Something felt just a little bit off. Nothing Akaashi could place his finger on, nothing as obvious as the things he'd noticed at lunch, just a general feeling. He didn't say anything, though, and got out his homework. He worked on it for most of practice, between a few conversations with Yukie about their next matches and strategies. When he looked up occasionally, it was to his team working hard, everyone with as much energy as they could muster, and the familiar atmosphere soothed him.

He got up when it was time to clean up and helped Komi and Konoha, lulled into the easy banter the team shared. The two started throwing balls at each other after Konoha mocked Komi's haircut, and Akaashi let them joke around for a minute before calling them back.

“Yes, _mom_ ,” Komi smiled, going to retrieve the balls.

“I am not your mother,” Akaashi sighed automatically.

“You totally are,” Konoha pointed out, helping him bring the net down. “Just look how you act with us all! Bokuto, especially. I don't know how you do it.”

“Now, now, you know he doesn't want to be his mother,” Komi interjected.

“I don't want to be _anyone's_ mother.”

“He wants to be his boyfriend.”

Akaashi almost choked on air at that, then spluttered under the amused eyes of his seniors, who finished rolling the net quickly.

“Don't be so surprised, you're not incredibly subtle. Either of you,” Komi added while moving his eyebrows suggestively – Akaashi wasn't sure how his life had led to him being on the receiving end of _that_ , but he was pretty sure he'd gone wrong at some point.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he hissed, before the words reached him. “Wait. Either of us?”

“The guy literally lights up when you're in the room, Akaashi,” Konoha remarked. “Not that hard to figure out.”

Akaashi felt his ears redden, the heat slowly going higher and higher until his cheeks felt hot, too.

“Oooooh, someone has a little crush here,” Komi started chanting, a grin on his face.

“A big one, even,” Konoha added, net completely forgotten in the face of the possibility of teasing Akaashi.

“That's so _cuuuute_.”

“ _Adorable_ , even.”

Akaashi hesitated between hitting them with his crutches or running away when the sound of the door to the changing room opening cut them off, and ended his dilemma.

“Hey, Akaashi! I'll walk you home,” Bokuto exclaimed, waving at him.

Akaashi was turning his back to his teammates, but he knew exactly what expression they were wearing. He turned back for a second, just the time he needed to see he was right, and jabbed his elbow into Konoha's side in revenge before wobbling over to the bench, where he took his bag before joining Bokuto.

“No spiking practice?”

“Don't feel like it,” Bokuto shrugged.

“Then let's go,” he mumbled, ears and neck still hot.

Bokuto, thankfully, didn't seem to catch on, and followed him without question. He talked about his day, about new ways to improve his spikes, about the training camp coming up, about anything and everything, really. There was a digression on blood types and how they really didn't actually have anything to do with personalities, which Akaashi found endearing. He smiled a little, happy to find that Bokuto was, for all intent and purpose, back to _normal,_ except...

He couldn't say what tipped him off. Maybe the way Bokuto's eyes seemed a little too intense, too focused, maybe the way he held himself carefully around him, maybe the slight pauses in his speech, sometimes, for no reason Akaashi could understand. Maybe just their familiarity, and the fact that Bokuto just _felt different_ , though Akaashi usually wasn't the one to trust _vibes_ (Bokuto did, that was practically one of the first thing he'd said to him. _You give off a good vibe, so I'm sure you'll be amazing_.)

His front door was there too quickly to his liking. He wanted more time with Bokuto. To determine what was wrong, of course – he had never allowed himself to give into his weakness for his friend, he wasn't selfish enough to encourage it in himself, and he definitely wasn't going to start now.

“I guess I'll leave you here, then,” Bokuto smiled, a lot more relaxed than he had been the previous day.

“Thank you for coming with me.”

“No problem, it's not that far away from my way anyway,” Bokuto exclaimed.

That was sort of a lie. It wasn't even remotely on Bokuto's way home, only in the same general direction, and Akaashi knew it made his trip almost twice as longer. Bokuto seemed to realize it at the same time, though, and he shrugged.

“Well, a little, but I like walking home with you.”

“You shouldn't bother with me,” Akaashi said. “I can walk home alone.”

“Who said you were a bother?” Bokuto laughed.

Still too loud.

“I'll see you tomorrow!” Bokuto added as he waved goodbye, going back on their steps. Sleep well!

“You too,” Akaashi replied.

His hand came up to wave back, leaving his crutch to fall at his side. He swore under his breath and heard Bokuto laugh, sincerely this time, but when he looked up, he'd already disappeared behind a corner.

 

* * *

 

He rested more easily that night, but when morning came by, the feeling of apprehension he'd felt rising the past two days was all he could think about. His face was even worse than the day before, but it hurt less, so he counted it as a good point, at least, and he didn't feel as sleep-deprived anymore. The morning classes felt slower than ever, though, and when he saw Bokuto across the hallway at lunch, it was all he could do not to keep his composure. He felt restless and unable to settle down, like his nerves were on fire. He wondered briefly if that was how Bokuto felt all the time. That would certainly explain the energy he always seemed to exude.

“Let's eat outside today, Bokuto-san,” he offered, and he knew Bokuto had no reason to say no, so he didn’t wait for his answer and started walking.

They sat on the grass, a little isolated from the other groups of people around them. Akaashi was steadier on his braces than the first day, but still sighed with relief when he got to push them aside. Bokuto sat right across him, practically vibrating. He immediately launched into a complicated retelling of something that had happened that morning, involving Yukie and Komi, the east staircase and three chopsticks, but Akaashi was distracted when Komi's name reminded him of his words the day before.

Bokuto was still off. He was hiding it well, acting as usual, not even really over the top – and there was a thought, Bokuto acting even more extravagantly – but there was _something._ He wasn't sure that it was something _actually_ different, rather than something he'd noticed just now, because Bokuto had lowered his guard for once and ha d acted strangely for a day, and the words ' _neither of you_ ' kept ringing into Akaashi's ears.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi interrupted him when he moved on something else – though not something less important, no, _everything_ seemed to be just as much worthy of attention and passion to Bokuto.

“Yeah?”

“What's wrong?”

Bokuto's smile dropped for a second, his expression more serious than it had been even at the nurse's office, and Akaashi regretted asking for a moment, but the smile came back, albeit smaller.

“Nothing gets past you,” Bokuto remarked, eyes twinkling.

“Let's say I know you too well by now,” Akaashi shrugged.

They'd both set their lunch aside, and Akaashi was wringing his hands, waiting for the actual answer.

“It's just... well, for starters, I'm really, really sorry about hitting you the other day,” Bokuto sighed, combing a slightly shaking hand through his hair.

“I already told you it's alright, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi scowled. “Not playing for a week isn't something I'm happy about but it's-”

“I know,” Bokuto cut him off, voice lower. “I know, but, uh, I'd planned to ask you something, and after that, it just didn't seem like it would go well, and you weren't in a good mood anyway, _especially_ when I tried to be less annoying, so I didn't know what to do.”

“Less anno- Bokuto-san, I know I don't always show it, but I don't think you're annoying. I never thought that. I appreciate the sentiment, but you don't have to do- what you did.”

 _Well, part of the mystery solved_ , Akaashi reflected. At least that explained his weird silence.

Bokuto's smile shifted at the words, somehow more natural on his face, rooted in something deeper than his usual good mood. He shook his head a little, a gesture probably meant for himself.

“Thanks. That makes the question a little easier, actually,” he laughed. “But I still want to wait. For the right time.”

“It sounds like you're going to propose, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi deadpanned.

He'd thought they were back on teasing terms, since Bokuto seemed to feel better, but when no answer came, Akaashi panicked. Maybe he'd crossed a boundary, without knowing – maybe Bokuto wanted to ask him to leave him alone, or tell him they wouldn't hang out as much anymore, or – but when he lifted his head, Bokuto had a strange, oddly guilty expression on his face.

“Well, uh,” he tried to say, his words half-choked.

“You cannot try to propose to me to make sure I don't leave the team, Bokuto-san.”

Akaashi tried to smile as he said that, a throwback to one of Bokuto's antics, the year before, when he'd disguised the whole announcement that he would be the team's official setter as a proposal, with help of the rest of the team. That had been fun, actually, in retrospect, though at the moment, Akaashi had felt really lost. And when his heart had skipped a few bits, he'd realized that maybe he should take a closer look at his own feelings.

But the joke did nothing to help Bokuto, if the color of his face was anything to go by – it probably nicely matched Akaashi's ears nicely by now.

“Well, it's not really not leaving the team,” Bokuto managed to articulate, then mumbled unintelligibly.

“Sorry?”

Bokuto cleared his throat.

“I said, it's really more about not leaving me,” he repeated, face burning.

Akaashi honestly hadn't seen that one coming. He'd _hope_ _d_ , sure, sometimes, and a bit more after Komi and Konoha's words, but to actually _expect it_? That had never even been a possibility. Which explained why he gaped uselessly at Bokuto for a few seconds before he could make his brain work again, at least enough to process what was happening.

“Are you asking me out?” he said slowly, cringing at how he sounded, his throat suddenly very dry.

Bokuto did not seem to mind that his voice has become rough and raspy, barely intelligible, and he nodded.

“I mean, it's totally fine if you don't want to! I get it, friends is already great, and it doesn't have to be awkward, so really, it's okay if you refuse,” he blurted, trying to look _anywhere_ that wasn't Akaashi.

“And if I accept?”

Bokuto turned his head so fast at that that Akaashi feared for a moment that he'd gotten whiplash.

“That would probably be the best moment of my life so far,” he answered after a second.

“Better than when you mastered that straight spike?” Akaashi smiled.

“Okay, top three.”

“What else is in the top three?”

“The day I met you.”

It was said with such honesty that Akaashi hid his face behind his hands. He couldn't take it. Then he remembered that he'd just basically agreed to go out with Bokuto and, yeah, he could take it.

“This is so embarrassing,” he laughed.

“But you like it,” Bokuto countered, his own smile mirroring the one Akaashi sported.

“Yeah. Yeah, I like it,” Akaashi admitted, lowering his hands. “I like you.”

Saying it out loud felt strange, but it was worth it for the look on Bokuto's face.

The first bell of the end of lunch period rang, and they hadn't eaten half of their food, and they didn't move immediately, and they would be late, but it was fine, because Akaashi didn't feel nervous anymore, and Bokuto smiled and smiled, as radiant as the sun above them, and when Akaashi took the hand Bokuto offered him to get up, he didn't let it go.

 

* * *

 

He _did_ kick Konoha and Komi's asses when he came back to practice, if only because they couldn't keep giving him knowing smiles and ask them about 'all that sexual tension'.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!
> 
> There's a [tumblr post](http://ldiote.tumblr.com/post/137305652504) if you want to reblog or like or come talk to me about volleyball dorks.
> 
> Have a nice day/night!


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